


Only the Sun

by StrengthThroughWounding



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Angst, Bad Decisions, Dubious Consent, Harry Potter Next Generation, M/M, Unhappy Ending, Unrequited, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-05 02:27:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3102029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrengthThroughWounding/pseuds/StrengthThroughWounding
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Teddy is staying with the Potters for the summer. He is in love with his godfather, Harry. Al is obsessed with something he knows he can never have. Just a story about people making bad decisions. (Al is 15, Teddy is 23.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Week 1

Friday

4pm  
As soon as Albus is in the door, he lets the trunks he carries in either hand drop to the floor. A small owl which was perched upon the left trunk hoots softly and flies off to land on a windowsill. Lily and James are close behind him, trunks in tow, and it is Lily who seems most excited to be greeted by the familiar sight of her house. Out of the three of the Potter siblings, she was the only one to experience significant homesickness at Hogwarts. Though it's improved since first year, it's still something that troubles her. Albus, on the other hand, does miss the smell of his mum's food and the comfort of his childhood bed, but mostly he finds being home to be boring. There aren't a lot of wizarding families nearby, as his dad insists on living in the remotest of locations “just to be safe.” On his holidays here, he tends to spend his time reading, practicing magic, and wandering the massive fields and hills their house is surrounded by. It's drudgery compared to what he gets up to at school, not that he doesn't mind the break from homework. 

The rich smell of warm banana bread draws him almost automatically to the kitchen, where his mum has set a knife slicing a still steaming loaf. She beams when she sees him and turns away from the counter rushing to hug him, telling him how much she missed him and how happy she is to see him with the same breathlessness she always uses. Al wonders why it seems like she is never certain he will return from school, but given the trauma in her past, it is not hard to guess. She greets James and Lily the same way, while Al goes for a thick slice of bread. It smells like sweet fruit and childhood. In thirty seconds, it's in his stomach.

“Hungry, huh?” A voice from the other side of the kitchen startles Al, and he turns with great surprise to see Teddy sitting at their table. The flutter in his stomach is immediate, the bright, adrenaline driven sensation he gets every time he sees Teddy. This started a few years ago, when he first noticed, _really_ noticed the tight muscles sliding beneath Teddy's skin, and the dark brown hair that flecked his chest and stomach, that dared Al to think about the unseen places it grew. He did not think it would stop any time soon. It was nothing at first; Teddy was part of Al discovering lust at a time in his life when that is exactly what's bound to happen. But what began as a crush lasted for years and grew into something massive and uncontrollable that rips at Al's heart every time their in a room together for more than thirty seconds. Not a single soul knows, and it's the weight of that which burdens him the most. 

“Teddy, hey,” Al says as soon as he swallows the last lump bread and gains enough composure to put words together in a normal sounding way. Usually he knows when he is going to see Teddy, usually he has days or at least hours to masturbate furiously and mentally prepare to suppress every thought and feeling he knows he'll have. 

“Hey yourself, it's good to see you.” Al can feel the tips of his ears reddening as Teddy stares directly at him, in a way Al is certain he never has before. He catches Teddy's gaze flick down for a moment, then drag back up his body, maybe to appreciate the inches Al as grown since they last saw each other. Maybe to appreciate something else. The flutter in his stomach is a caged canary, beating at the walls of his abdomen, eager to be released. Suddenly he wishes he hadn't eaten the bread. Trying to do the most normal thing he can think of, he goes to the table to sit across from Teddy, but before he can grab a chair, Teddy stands. He wraps his arms around Al's waist and pulls him into a hug. This is not exactly unusual for him to do, but it's not their traditional greeting. Desperate not to over think it, Al hugs back, arms around Teddy's shoulders, not as tight as he wants them to be. 

“Good to see you too.” He speaks halfway into Teddy's shirt and his voice his muffled, his head clouded with the smell of lavender detergent and the salinity of sweat. It's unmistakably the smell of Teddy and it goes straight to his brain, casting a fog over his thoughts for a dizzying moment. 

When they break apart, Al finds himself asking “So, what are you doing here?” He wouldn't have put it that way, but his thoughts are tangled and his body is reacting uncomfortably to the closeness he just shared with Teddy. 

“What, you want me out?” Teddy asks with a grin. Al forces a laugh as he finally sits down. 

“No, sorry I mean, just wondering is all.” Teddy lived with his grandmother, but he spent a lot of time at the Potters house while Al was younger, as Harry was his godfather. He is somewhat surprised that his Dad didn't mention Teddy was around when he was taking them all home from King's cross.

“Nan's, well, sick, so I've come to stay here while I finish my final apprenticeship at the ministry.”

“Oh yeah? Sorry to hear.”

“She'll be fine you know, she's tough. Twelve weeks, I'm sorry to say, so you're going to be sick of me.” Al almost laughed at how wrong that prediction was. A whole summer. This was the sort of thing he both dreamed of and dreaded; days upon days with Teddy, uninterrupted. Throughout Al's life Teddy had stayed with them for up to a week at a time, maybe a day or two more. Nothing like this. 

“I don't think so.” He manages to meet Teddy's eye for a moment with a tiny smile. He wants to smirk, or bite his lip, do anything outrageously flirtatious, but he can't tell if he's reading things right. It was only one unusual glance, one oddly timed embrace. Easily it could mean nothing at all. But there is a small spark in Al's brain that tells him something is different. For now, he chooses to ignore it. 

7pm  
The optimism that had been growing in Al since he spoke with Teddy is properly snuffed at family dinner that night. Over grilled halibut and boiled potatoes Al watches as Teddy and Harry speak and Teddy swoons and laps up every word like an unfed dog. It makes him full and heavy with envy, the way Teddy practically worships him, the way his father is totally oblivious to the lovesick look on his godson's face. In fact, no one other than Al seems to notice it. Likely that is because no one pays as much attention to Teddy as Al does. Not even Harry. Al stabs his potatoes but does not eat them as he listens to Harry drone on about his latest case. Al finds this completely boring, the sort of thing he would usually tune out, but he can't help listening and thinking about how impressed Teddy must be by every detail. Naturally he finds it interesting because he is studying to be an auror, but his enthrallment goes far beyond that. Al tries hard to ignore it because the jealousy in his chest is burning into anger and that rarely ends well. He focuses intently on his fish as he cuts it into tiny pieces, watching how the snow white flesh flakes away, noticing how delicate it is. He cuts methodically, shredding it into bits from one end to the other with only slight movements of his knife. He can't eat it. There's already too much inside of him.

“Al?” Someone says his name, maybe not for the first time, and he snaps his head up. Teddy and James are looking at him expectantly and Lily is suppressing a grin. 

“What?” He tries not to snap but there is a steel edge to his voice. A smile isn't enough to make up for it, but he gives it a go anyway. 

“Teddy's just been asking if you were seeing anyone at school,” James begins with a grin that says he is preparing with glee to watch Al squirm. “You know, because I was telling him how I've gotten with Alice this year and he was wondering...” 

This only makes Al angrier. He knows that James knows his answer is no, and that he doesn't want to give it. Since they were young James has delighted in making Al uncomfortable, be it physically, emotionally, socially. It was a twisted inclination but Al supposed it fell into normal older brother territory. He glances out of the corner of his eye at Teddy who apparently asked the question to begin with, and he appears curious, maybe a little amused. There is no malice in his features, but that is only a small relief to Al. 

“No,” he bites out, glaring at James, far too embarrassed to look at Teddy. “I don't have, like, a girlfriend, if that's what you mean.” 

This answer brought a horrible, horrible light to James eyes and he began laughing. “Oh, so you mean you have a boyfriend then?” 

If Al had blushed at the first question, the second one set his face on fire. “No,” he answers again, a bit too loud and clearly flustered at this point. James looks thoroughly pleased. 

“Just making sure,” James explains with a smirk. “So sad,” he says, directing the comment to Teddy. “I'm absolutely sure he'll die a virgin, I don't think he's even kissed a girl.”

Al nearly jumps up, ready to unleash a slew of curses and insults on his brother, and at the same time he can see his dad preparing to intervene. Lily beats them both. 

“I saw him with someone,” she says, as if she is defending Al and not making the entire situation worse. Their mother looks between them, eyes wide and mouth agape. 

“Kissing?” James asks, at the same time Al cries “You did not!” But he knows exactly what Lily is talking about. There was a seventh year Ravenclaw, Wes, he'd fooled around with a few times last term, and more than one of those times had been on the grounds. One night they were by the lake and Al was certain he saw someone, but Wes wouldn't even entertain the possibility of someone else being out there so late. It was Lily. Of course it was. 

“You don't know what you're talking about,” Al interjects before his sister can say _yes, they were definitely kissing_ , or even worse _it was a boy_. He's pretty sure Lily wouldn't out him like that but he isn't going to chance it. “You couldn't have seen anything, I haven't-” 

“Please!” Harry finally says, “Let's drop it, I don't want to hear this at dinner.”

“Or at all, thanks very much,” Ginny adds, glaring at James. Time and time again he is the instigator. He will poke and prod Al, encouraging the imminent storm of anger that gathers within him until he bursts and does something impulsive, usually violent. This behavior has brought their mother to tears more than once in the past. 

“Sure,” James says with a shrug, acting as though he's been completely reasonable. “Not my fault Al gets riled up so fast I mean-”

Al doesn't stick around for the rest of James' sentence; he's heard enough. Without a word he picks up his plate and leaves the table, yearning to be alone. 

 

Sunday

3am  
Teddy's heart skips a beat, the faintest stutter, when he sees the soft glow radiating from the direction of Al's bedroom. He'd gotten up to take a piss and is about to return to bed when he notices it. The door is ajar and a weak blue light glints off the frame, jumping out in the otherwise complete darkness of the hallway. 

Teddy wants to know why Al is still up. He wants to see him, wants to be in the same room as him, wants to smell his hair while they talk. These are all things he's wanted since Al came home from school, and despite getting them again and again, the craving that hollows out his gut only grows stronger. It's been two days and he's successfully kept the unwanted, somewhat unfamiliar thoughts at bay. Now still halfway in the fog of sleep, his barriers are down and thoughts are pouring in, driving him to edge of Al's bedroom. 

Before he can decide whether or not to knock, Teddy freezes. He feels sick and warm and like someone is running their fingers directly over each of his vertebrae. Through the cracked door he can see most of the room. There is a small ball of light hovering over a book, which lays with its pages open on Al's bedside table. Temporarily abandoned. On the bed, Al has his head tilted back and his pants shoved down to mid-thigh. 

The _right choice_ is obvious. There is no grey area here, Teddy thinks, but his legs are weak and his feet have grown roots straight through the wooden floorboards. He's overwhelmed by heat from his own body, sweat prickling up in tiny beads across his shoulders, the back of his neck, his temples. He can see Al sweating in all the same places, bare skin shining blue as he pumps and pants and twitches his hips. Teddy wants to kill himself for not looking away. 

Phrases like _Harry's son, underage,_ and _practically cousins_ play on a loop in Teddy's brain. Waves of guilt crash against waves of the most troubling arousal Teddy has every felt, and he focuses as hard as he can on ignoring what's happening below his waist. Never mind that walking away would relieve all his suffering; he is powerless to tear his gaze from the rapturous look on Al's face. Eyes fixed shut, mouth agape, Al's tongue curls over his upper lip. A face Teddy's seen countless times, at every age, and it has never looked this way before. His previous conceptions of Al are shattered. 

The sounds are soft, muted by Al's best efforts, but each one sends shocks swirling through Teddy's chest and raises the hair on the backs of his arms. The familiar timbre of Al's voice is just barley noticeable in each tiny grunt and groan, reminding him over and over again to feel ashamed. The electric prickle between his legs grows into a demanding ache, and it takes a focused effort not to shove his hand down his briefs. The muscles in Al's arm twitch and the tendons tighten. Teddy begs himself to leave, split in two with ambivalence. He can't come to this. But he does.


	2. Week 3

Saturday, 7pm

Teddy and Harry stand before a large antique mirror in the upstairs hallway, getting ready to leave for a Ministry function. Al watches them from the doorway of the bathroom, and he is sure neither of them notice him. Harry's chest is almost pressed against Teddy's as he helps him straighten his collar. Al can see Teddy shudder when Harry's finger brushes his neck, but Harry, as always, seems unaware. He runs a hand down Teddy's front, smoothing wrinkles out of the expensive dress robe; a gift from Harry himself. 

“They fit you perfectly,” Harry says, and jealousy seizes Al's gut. Who he is more jealous of, he cannot say. Teddy smiles and looks away, appraising himself in the mirror.

“Thanks for this, really.” 

“Of course.” Harry steps away, and Teddy's shoulders slump like he's letting out a long held breath. “I'm going to go check on Ginny,” he tells Teddy, “but I think we'll be leaving in five.” 

As soon as Harry is gone, Al walks over to Teddy. He's been distant towards Al all week, avoiding him and cutting conversations short. This is the first time Al has been with him alone. 

“You look fancy,” he says with a smirk, hoping to give him a laugh. In designer robes, with his hair slicked back and sideburns shaved, Teddy looks nothing like himself. Al finds him attractive nonetheless, though he can tell Teddy is uncomfortable with the look. Teddy does not meet his eyes, looks sideways at the wall. 

“Thanks.” It doesn't sound at all as it did when he said it to Harry. As much as Al has been replaying a few hopeful moments from the weekend over and over in his head, he hasn't been able to recapture the same spark over the past six days. Something changed and he knows now isn't the time but he _has_ to ask.

“Is everything... alright?”

Teddy looks surprised and hesitates a moment, then turns to Al. With his hair pushed off his face, his cheekbones look severe, his jawline sharp. Every beautiful bone is arranged in such a perfect way, it hurts Al's eyes if he looks for too long. When Teddy offers a smile, everything softens, if only a bit. 

“Yes, absolutely. What would be the matter?” He's playing with the cuff of his robe, in his best attempt to appear casual.

Al gives Teddy a skeptical look, despite the fact that he can't see it. 

“I dunno, I guess.” He shrugs. “Just haven't seen much of you since I got home.” As soon as he says it he feels dumb and he wants to eat the words out of the air. He opens his mouth to dismiss the comment but Teddy steps closer to him and closes his hand around Al's arm. 

“It's fine,” he reassures, “but I have to go. We can talk when I get home if you want.” 

“Alright. Let's do that.” 

“Alright.”

“Enjoy the gala.” 

Teddy's hand lingers a moment too long before he pulls away to leave. He gives Al a single second of eye contact and a nod goodbye. The look makeseee

12am  
Al and Teddy are lying next to each other on Al's bed, much like they did when they were younger. Al started at Hogwarts the year after Teddy finished, and after that they saw each other much less, mostly on holidays. The bed is bigger now, but so are they. Still, they don't lay shoulder to shoulder anymore; there is a safe stretch of burgundy comforter between them. Al eyes the gap regretfully as he speaks to Teddy.

“How was it then?” 

“Boring. Long. Stuffy.” Teddy shrugs. “Pretty much what I'd expected.” His dress robes are gone and he's left wearing only a thin white v neck and black slacks. He's still dressed nicer than Al is used to seeing him. A halfhearted attempt to rinse the styling gel out of his hair leaves some of it sticking up, most of it plastered to his face and forehead. 

“Why'd you go then?” Al knows he went because Harry went, but he wants to see what he will say, if he'll ignore the truth. 

“I dunno. Networking opportunities... looks good to everyone I'm working with. I think it meant a lot to Harry for me to go.”

Al nods. Harry. Of course. “I guess that's... yeah.” He tries to sound understanding, to clear the bitter notes out of his voice, but he knows he fails. Teddy's body deflates a bit with a small sigh. 

“I really have just been busy,” he says. “Settling down at the ministry, figuring shit out.”

Again Al nods. “Sure.” But his heart feels cold and despite the fact that he can tell Teddy is trying to make things as smooth as possible between them, he still aches with resentment. Something is amiss and Teddy isn't addressing it. 

“Really, I'm in too deep there. I hardly have any idea what I'm supposed to be doing.” He turns his head towards Al but he doesn't look at him, pretends like his voice isn't cracking over the excuses he's making. Al doesn't know what to do. He doesn't want to say it again, what he said earlier, but he wants something other than lies from a person he's trusted his entire life. 

“Yeah.” He speaks just to fill the silence. There is an urgency rising in his chest, giving birth to a number of impulses that would all lead him in terrible directions. He rolls over onto his side, looking at Teddy like there might be some key in the way he curls his body to explain how he's been acting. If there is, it's unidentifiable. He bites his lip and stares hard at Teddy, struggling to suppress images of him with his father earlier in the evening. The obsession has been obvious for a while now, but never before had it affected the way Teddy acted towards Al. 

“I know how you feel about my father,” Al whispers, voice hoarse. The words scare him as they fly out, a statement he can't even remember putting together. The look on Teddy's face is enough to make him regret it, the shock mixed with fear and pure disdain. He doesn't want to hear the response, wants to run out the room and into the night to never return again. He braces himself for unrelenting anger. 

After a long pause: “I don't- _you_ don't know what you're talking about,” Teddy hisses, pink splotches blossoming on his cheeks. Al cannot recall ever seeing Teddy look embarrassed before. Despite his best efforts to seem composed, it bleeds through in his downcast gaze and the near imperceptible line of sweat appearing along his hairline. Finally he looks up, jaw clenched and determination clouding the fear in eyes. 

“I know how you feel about me,” he retaliates, a breathy declaration. There's spite, there's terror, there's some sort of plea, and Al has no idea what to respond to. The admission knocks the air out of his lungs and drains the blood from his face until he is porcelain pale. There is a ghost of excitement that creeps through his bones and insists that Teddy has said this for some reason other than to turn the tables.

“What do you mean?” Al dares him to say it. He wants to sound brave, or at least unaffected, but his voice shakes and he can barely make it audible. Teddy narrows his eyes. Not in anger, but something that looks like resistance. Al can see the wheels turning and creaking inside his skull as he weighs his options. Answer. Don't answer. Lie. 

“You know what I mean.” 

“I, I'm not...” he shakes his head, words fail him. While he tries to speak and come up with the most benign dismissal he can, his eyes are drawn over the gentle curve of Teddy's neck, sun-kissed and flecked with stubble. The thin skin slides over the jut of his Adam's apple with each nervous swallow. Al stares here for so long he can see the shadow of Teddy's pulse, beating just below the outline of a snaking vein. It makes saliva pool in his mouth, and then he looks at Teddy's mouth- it's shiny, slick with spit, and shades redder than usual. This happens when Teddy is nervous, Al has noticed, he pulls his lower lip between his teeth and then releases it, over and over until the flesh is flush and swollen. He realizes Teddy is waiting for him to finish his thought, but it has long since vanished. All it takes is a few small wriggles to move close enough, and Al presses his lips to Teddy's before he has time enough to assess what a terrible idea it is.

He's a bout to draw away, but he feels Teddy relent, even move the smallest amount closer. For a fleeting blissful moment his lips close over Al's, but then he jerks away. There is a silence heavier and darker than ever before and both of them fix their eyes on the ceiling. Al tries to follow the whirling patterns of the textured drywall, but all he can see is Teddy's face, Teddy's mouth, just before. He cannot recall ever making a worse decision. A small part of him wants to look over and evaluate Teddy's reaction, but by and far he is too anxious to even move. He can hear Teddy take a deep breath. 

“That... never happened.” 

Al nods and accepts the crushing blow. Years of fantasy sink into shame and he has to turn away to hide the bright red disappointment on his face. 

“Al,” Teddy says, voice softer, and he slides an arm behind Al's shoulders, pulling him close. “Al, I'm sorry. But you know... that's not...” He sounds torn. Al so badly wants to cut him open and look inside, right at his soul. That seems to be the only way he'll ever understand him. 

Al rests his head on Teddy's shoulder, nose brushing the crook of his neck. This gesture would've seemed so innocent in the past, but after what's happened he knows it will come off in an different way. He knows that Teddy will feel every warm tickle of his breath, and he half hopes it tortures him. Teddy remains still, for reasons Al can only speculate about. Maybe he's in shock, or total denial. Or maybe he's doing the same thing, terrified that a single twitch could send things spiraling downwards. Playing over the possibilities lulls Al into a stupor, until he falls asleep, cradled in the warmth of Teddy's reluctant body.


	3. Week 4

Friday 

9pm

This is the first night all week that Teddy doesn't go to the pub straight after work. For the past five days he's hidden himself in the dark corners of a muggle joint called The Old Toad, biding his time and getting more sloshed than he'd care to admit. He's careful not to return to the Potter household until he knows Al will be asleep, or at least in bed. He can't look at him without picturing his bare legs, without imagining the way his lips felt. He can't look at him without feeling like a terrible person. But tonight he's tired. He's tired of drinking, and the sticky wooden floor, and being surrounded by strangers who all seem to be enjoying themselves more than he has in at least a month. 

Instead, he stays as long as he can at the Ministry, swamping himself in paperwork and and other mindless tasks that have no real deadline. Harry and Ginny had instructed him to leave as early as he could, as they were away for the weekend with Ron and Hermione, leaving the Potter kids plus Hugo and Rose under his supervision. He felt guilty not abiding, but nowhere near as guilty as he felt about the situation with Albus.

Finally a guard finds him, holed up in Harry's office. He tells him the lights are going off and the wards are going up. His safe space is shutting down. The hall of floo networks is all the way empty, and only a single lit fire casts an eerie glow on the marble walls. He stands and stares at the flames for a while, savoring his last moments of anything that resembles contentment. In under a minute he is emerging from the Potter's fireplace.

There are seven or eight people in the vast sitting room, and Teddy can see a handful more in the kitchen where the counter is lined with bottles of various alcohols He groans and rubs his forehead, wishing he had gone drinking after all. Clearly his supervision will do little here, and the last thing he wants to spend his night doing is making sure a bunch of drunk teenagers don't ruin his godfather's house. From the kitchen Teddy can hear James' raucous, liquor soaked laughter and he lowers his brow. No one other than James would be responsible for this. 

“Teddy, there you are!” Lily is calling to him, and she walks over. She is dressed in clothes that would likely make Ginny holler, and she is holding a drink that is obviously not soda. To her credit, she does not appear to be drunk. 

“Hey, nice party.” 

She turns pink and rolls her eyes. “It was James, you know.” Her hand gestures to the kitchen to indicate her brother. “It's not like we can't tell him not to have friends over.” 

“I know.” Teddy doesn't blame her, and doesn't even blame James really. 

“Even if we wanted to, we can't like, control him. And anyway, why weren't you here? Dad said you were going to get back from work early.” 

Teddy looks at her and sighs. He is very fond of Lily, and feels a strong urge to tell her the truth about why he got back nearly five hours late. _I watched your brother get himself off, and then he kissed me, so I do everything I can do avoid being near him, so I wasted an inordinate amount of time at the ministry.”_ She'd hate him. She'd kill him. 

“I got caught up in something, sorry.” he mutters, and she shrugs and walks away. Normally Lily will ask a lot of questions about something like that, but she has an usually keen sense of people's moods, and Teddy is sure she could see his affect souring. 

Teddy looks over to the kitchen, where he can see James pouring a round of drinks. He wants to go over there, not to confront him, just to give him a contemptuous look. That would be at least mildly satisfying. When he is about to leave the sitting room he spots Al on the sofa, realizes they've been in the same room for at least three minutes. There is a girl on his lap with long black hair, breasts spilling out of a partly unbuttoned blouse. Teddy watches with horrified fascination as Al's fingers creep up her thigh, and she covers his mouth with hers, suctioned to his face like a leech. Al looks over and locks gaze with Teddy immediately. He spends an indulgent amount of time finishing the kiss, then gives him an unmistakable smirk. An ugly, possessive jealousy devours Teddy from the inside out, and it radiates through the glare he gives Al. A few choice and completely unreasonable insults run through his head before he decides it's best to get the hell out. 

He bolts to the veranda, cigarettes fished from his pocket before he's out the door. He's not a chain smoker, but he keeps them around for moments of stress, which have increased exponentially in number over the past few weeks. He tries hard to hide it from Harry, but he suspects he knows, and he assumes one day he'll be hearing about it.

“ _Incendio_.” The tip of the cigarette catches flame for a brief moment, the settles to a soft red glow. The image of that girl slobbering on Al is looped in his brain and it's making him ill. He holds in his first breath of smoke until his lungs burn, until fluorescent purple stars dance across his visual field, until his brain doesn't have enough oxygen to keep playing him that awful movie. He lets it out with gasps and coughs and has to grip the railing to keep from falling to his knees. 

Just as Teddy takes his second drag, he hears the door open behind him. He turns around on instinct, sees Al and nearly jumps out of his skin. 

“It's just me, calm down.” 

Teddy clenches his jaw and quells the urge to scream. The audacity Al has to tell him to calm down is unreal. Al looks at him like he can't possibly understand why he'd be on edge, like nothing out of the ordinary has happened. His eyes are the same shade of green as Harry's, and he can make them look just as warm and alluring. It's a trick and Teddy knows it, but it still works. He softens a bit, and busies himself with the cigarette, watching as the smoke drifts out of his mouth and disappears into the indigo sky. He has an inexplicable feeling that he should give Al the benefit of the doubt, so he discards his plan to apparate on the spot, and folds his arms. 

“Fun night?” Teddy asks, making only the weakest attempt to hide the acrid sarcasm in his voice. 

“I was just waiting for you to come home. Dad told us-”

“Yeah, yeah I know, that I'd be back early. I had shit to do, sorry.” 

Al frowns a little, and walks over to Teddy, leans against the railing next to him. Teddy expects him to smell like he's been drinking, but he doesn't. He feels suffocated by Al's close proximity, and becomes very aware of every small movement he makes, terrified that they might touch. Even more terrified that he might do it on purpose. 

“You've been avoiding me.” 

It doesn't surprise Teddy that he knows; it's obvious. But he stills feels the need to deny it. “No. That's not true.” He can't bring himself look at Al when he says it

“Course it is, you think I'm stupid?” 

Teddy had been clinging to a small hope that Al would drop the issue, but he should know better than that. His hands are cold and slick, so he wraps them tight around the wooden railing until his knuckles ache. Al has always been blunt, he has always been pushy, but this is the first time Teddy has been on the wrong side of it. 

“No,” he says, after a pause. 

“Then try being honest for once.” Al's tone is harsh, he says it like he's been holding it in for ages. It wouldn't sting so much if it wasn't such a reasonable request. Teddy has only done a little bit of lying, but he's done a whole lot of not telling the truth. It seems less despicable to him, just keeping something in instead of giving an outright fabrication. He has a feeling Al doesn't see it that way. 

“I have been. I told you we couldn't, that I didn't want to, you know... that was honest.” It's the best, the only example he can think of. And only part of it is true. 

“Like hell it was. You don't mean that.” 

“Of course I fucking mean it, don't be daft.” He really does want to stop lying, but if he gives Al even the slightest concession, it will all be over. 

“You kissed me back. You think I didn't notice that?” 

Teddy grinds his teeth together and tilts his head back to look at the sky, so he can't even see Al in his periphery. He isn't wrong, but Teddy has been trying to tell himself all week that he didn't do that. Now he's remembering it all over again, how good it felt to surrender, the way he tasted, like licorice and toothpaste. How it lasted only a second before he was washed head to toe in guilt. He resents Al for forcing these thoughts to surface. 

“I don't care what you think you noticed, you never should have done that. And what does it matter now? You seem to be having a perfectly fine time slutting it up with James' mates.” It comes out much meaner than it had sounded in his head, probably one of the cruelest things he's said to him. He might regret it later but right now he's fully convinced Al deserves it. 

“Oh, nice one.” If Al's only pretending not to be bothered by the comment, he's doing a good job at it. This annoys Teddy more than it should. 

“Seriously, and I thought you only liked boys?” Teddy was the first person Al shared this with, and he's recalling the moment with bitter, stinging nostalgia.

“I do. I wasn't interested in her I was just-”

Teddy cuts him off with a scoff. “Yeah right, expect me to believe that.” 

“I was- I wanted to... get your attention.” 

At first, Teddy is enraged. To think that Al would do something like that just to get a rise out of him makes his blood run hot. He knows this is probably what he deserves for becoming emotionally invested in a fifteen year old. He can't be as angry at Al as he wants because he knows he isn't the only one to blame. 

“You can't be serious.”

“It worked.” Al's voice is smug and he slides closer to Teddy, until the edges of their hands touch. A muscle in Teddy's arm flinches, but he doesn't move it, picks his head up and just looks at him. The light on the veranda is dim, and it is so easy to see his father in him. It doesn't matter that he has soft cheekbones and his mother's chin, his face is half in shadow and all Teddy sees are his eyes. Harry's eyes. 

“I don't think so.” Of course it worked. It worked because Al is clever, and ruthless, and gets something when he wants it. And because Teddy is depraved. 

“I guess that doesn't really matter. I mean, you're still standing here.” 

Teddy thinks that should be his cue to leave, because he really has no excuses for willfully putting himself in a situation that he knows will end poorly. He's been doing that a lot lately. With a sigh, he pushes off the railing and faces Al, ready to tell him that the conversation has to end here. But Al has a different idea, and he hooks his fingers under Teddy's belt, pulling him close. The words die in his throat. Teddy stills, paralyzed by the way Al's hips fit so well against his. This is why he can't be around him. He forces himself to back away. 

“Al...” He means it to sound sharper, a warning, but the syllable comes out hoarse and more like a plea than anything else. This time Al's hands are at his waist and he pulls them flush together, until Teddy can feel their chests rise and fall together. 

Al leans in so that they're cheek to cheek, and it feels more intimate than the kiss, though less welcomed. “What?” he mutters, lips buzzing below Teddy's earlobe. This is envelope pushing, this is uncanny persistence. This is what Al does best. Teddy's spine prickles and his muscles tense. He's a rabbit in a trap, and the metal teeth cut straight to his bone. He gently pushes Al away and takes a step back. 

“Come on, what are you doing?” 

“Nothing,” Al says, just as he reaches out to run his fingers up the buttons on Teddy's shirt. Teddy grabs Al's wrist when his thumb starts pushing the top button through its slit. 

“Stop.” He isn't sure how much clearer he can be, or if clarity is even the issue. Al is ignoring him, pulling closer despite Teddy's grip on his arm. The flesh is cool beneath Teddy's warm palm and he finds himself looking at Al's skin, pale, the moon's glow makes it paler. He lets go long after he should. 

“What's the problem?” Al's face is blank, voice unassuming. But there is a flash of desperation in his eyes, the first hint of anything other than bravado and determination that Teddy has seen so far. Al is touching his shirt again, fingers melting through the fabric to violate his skin. He makes no mistakes, passes straight over Teddy's nipple with the slightest simper on his lips. Teddy swats his hand away, steps back again. 

“Fucking stop. What's _your_ problem?” 

“I _know_ , Teddy. I know what you want. I can give it to you.” His voice is urgent and his hands are on his Teddy's rib cage, freezing the air in his lungs. He touches Teddy like a compulsion, like he needs it more than the blood in his veins. Teddy is breathless for a second, then furious. He grasps Al's biceps and jerks him forward, relishing the flickers of fear in his eyes.

“Don't say that. You have _no_ idea.” He reddens at the thought of what Al is insinuating, lets vitriol mask the shame in his words. Al is undeterred. He relaxes into Teddy's hold, uses it to his advantage until they're close enough that Teddy can count each of his thick black eyelashes. Every time Teddy tries to let go, he finds himself digging his nails in further. Al leans forward until their foreheads touch. 

“You can call me Harry.” The words crawl directly off Al's tongue and into Teddy's mouth, squirming and writhing on their way to his gut, where a chasm forms. 

“Fuck you,” Teddy spits, almost unable to believe he'd heard Al say that. He doesn't think about it, he just does it. In a single moment of rage, he shoves Al away and into the bannister. There is a loud crack when his back hits the railing, and a soft thud when his body hits the ground. Teddy is petrified, can only look on with shock as Al reaches behind his back then presents fingers smeared with blood. 

“Al, I didn't-” Teddy rushes over. “I'm sorry, so sorry, are you okay?” He crouches beside Al, heart racing as he realizes that he's the worst person on earth. Al doesn't respond, turns away and Teddy is sure that he's hiding tears. “Let me see,” he pleads, drawing his wand, “let me help.” 

Al stands abruptly, looking only somewhat shaky on feet. “I'm fine thanks.” He turns for the door, and Teddy can see the wet dark splotches on the back of his shirt. 

“Al, please-” 

The door slams, and he's gone.


	4. Week 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's short, sorry!

Tuesday

8:30pm

After dinner, Al shuts himself in the second floor drawing room, where he has been hiding quite a bit the past few weeks. He doesn't want to see Teddy. He doesn't want to speak to his family. He's spent most his time since Friday marinating in shame and anger, sulking around the house in a cloud of misery. Up here he can be miserable alone. In the lavender brocade armchair, he can sit facing the window and ask himself why everything is turning out such a mess, why he can't make it work with Teddy. Today he lays listless on the carpet, a horribly scratchy Persian rug that was given to his father by some one or other, who he'd done something for. Al could never remember. 

He's not been on the ground for two minutes when the door opens, giving him a significant startle. It hadn't occurred to him to charm it shut, as no one really spends time in this room anymore. He doesn't need to look to know it's Teddy. That's just what his luck's been of late. He sits up. 

“Hey... Al.” He closes the door behind him. 

“You follow me up here or something?” 

Teddy ignores the question and flicks his wand towards the window, drawing the blinds to dampen the brilliance of the setting sun. Sometimes Al likes to try and stare right at it, letting the light bleach his retinas and render his eyes useless for a few bright seconds. He knows that Teddy prefers shade. 

“I wanted to... how are you doing?” Teddy asks, sitting on the floor across from Al. His hands are shaky and he chews on his redden lips. Al wants to laugh at such a stupid question. Even if Teddy does care for the answer, it isn't like he can't guess it himself. 

“I'm really great,” Al deadpans, picking threads out of the carpet fringe. 

“Look, about Friday-”

“Don't.” He can see where this is going and he doesn't want to hear any fake meandering apologies. He doesn't want the pity he can already see glimmers of Teddy's eyes. He also doesn't want him to leave. 

“I shouldn't have shoved you. I shouldn't have... I totally lost it okay? I didn't- I never wanted to hurt you.” 

Al can tell it's hard for him to say. The look on his face is so goddamn sincere it makes Al want to puke. He doesn't want to believe it, but Teddy seems to mean every word. He wants to give a scathing response, _then why the fuck did you do it_ , or something worse. Instead he just stares at Teddy, lets the anger push at his seams. Part of him is curious as to what Teddy will do if he says nothing at all. 

After enduring the silence for a second longer than Al would've expected him to, he breaks. 

“So how, uh, is your back? Did you have one of your parents look at it?”

Al gives a mirthless laugh, trying to imagine explaining to either of his parents how he got the injury. 

“No, no I didn't. And it's fine, doesn't need looking at anyway.”

“I-Can I see it?”

Al had been hoping he'd ask that. Teddy's voice sounds tentative, but his hand is already reaching out. He will see the parallel red slices that run half the length of Al's back, and the mottled blue and green bruise floating over his spine like a storm cloud. He will feel guilty. He will have to touch him. Al moves closer to Teddy, then turns so that he is facing the other way. 

“Go for it.” 

After a second's hesitation, Al doesn't think he will do it, thinks that Teddy can see the trap. But then cold fingers slip under the hem of his shirt and pull it up, slow and fumbling. Al can feel feather light grazes over the scabs, and knows Teddy is having trouble restraining himself. He lingers on the bruise, and Al can't help but lean back. If Teddy notices, he pretends not to. Minutes stretch like hours before Teddy tugs the fabric back down. Al turns around.

“Al... I'm so sorry.” Teddy's voice is soft, tortured, everything that Al expects from him. Four days he's been waiting for the apology, and for the first time he's considering accepting it. He's been holding tight to his anger, hoping his resentment would grow deep enough to swallow any attraction he feels towards Teddy. But shame has been chipping at his resolve, thoughts of fault and what he may or may not have deserved. In the same room as Teddy, in the face of his sad, November sky eyes, the hostility melts away. 

“It's not a big deal.”

“It is, I'm awful, I'm so sorry.” Teddy has his forehead rested on his palm, staring down into his lap in avoidance. 

“You're not awful.” 

“I am, really, I don't know why you're even...” 

“Why I'm even what?”

“Nothing” The kind of _nothing_ that means _you can finish the sentence yourself._ Al thinks it an act of cowardice, and hates how often Teddy does it. 

“Tell me.” 

Teddy's disposition shifts and his face hardens, the way it does when he's losing patience. Al has all of his facial expressions well memorized; a product of countless secret glances, blatant staring, and peeking shamelessly the first time Teddy brought a boy to their house. There is a beat where Teddy collects himself, then he glares at Al. 

“You know bloody well what I was going to say.” 

“You don't know why I'm even interested in you?” A tone so scalding the words almost disappear into vapor. “Is that it? What a fucking lovely sentiment.” Teddy wasn't going to say it, realized halfway through that it was too cruel to finish, but Al considers the line as good as spoken. 

“Alright, I'm sorry. Let me heal it.” It's firmer than a suggestion and Teddy already has his wand out. 

“I don't need you to. It doesn't even hurt.” As if he's trying to prove something. As if he doesn't want it.

“At least so no one will see it, then.”

“Fine.”

Al turns around and leans forward, resting his head on his knees. This time Teddy does not hesitate, slides his hands under Al's shirt and pushes it up his back. He takes his time, presses his fingers into each groove between each rib, until the entire pallid landscape is exposed. Al feels much colder than he should but Teddy's deliberate movements thrill him. One hand rests against the small of his back, and he feels Teddy draw the tip of his wand up and down the gashes. Teddy is muttering an incantation that Al can't hear over the pain that rips through his wounds. It always hurts worse than he expects it to, but it ends in an instant and it occurs to Al that Teddy's healing skills have improved a lot. 

“Done.” Teddy strokes the area where the scabs had cut their fat, unsightly tracks, now smooth and unblemished. Al waits before sitting up, curious and dying to see how long his touch will remain. It's the type of moment where Al gets the impression that they're both supposed to be pretending it isn't happening, like reality has been suspended. And he doesn't mind that. Much too soon, Teddy draws his hand away, and clears his throat. Al turns around to see pink staining his cheeks. 

“You're so bad at hiding it.” It's not a tease, not an affront, Al's stating what he sees as plain fact. He wants to be pleased about it, but it makes Teddy's rejections all the more agonizing. 

“Dunno what you mean.” Teddy's head is ducked and he's fussing with his disheveled hair, pulling the russet strands at their roots. 

“Just tell me why.”

“I've just healed an injury that _I_ gave to you. You shouldn't- I shouldn't... you deserve better than that.”

“Sod off, we both know that's got nothing to do with it.” 

“Do I need to point out the obvious, then? That you're Harry's son, that you're fifteen?” 

“ _Harry_ , that's really it. My father, your stupid crush-”

Teddy's face hardens as soon as Al says it, and he stands up. For a second Al thinks he's going to leave, and he's regretting being so harsh. 

“Don't start with that shit,” Teddy spits. “I respect him. Too much to do what you want.” 

“What I want? What about what you want? You won't even fucking say it.” 

“There's nothing to say Al, because I don't want that.” 

“You're lying.” His voice cracks, and before he can stop it his eyes are glossed with tears. He turns his face to the side, but Teddy's already got a glimpse and his brow folds with guilt. 

“Look, I'm not trying to... I'm sorry. It's not something that can happen. The problems it would cause, come on Al, you know- I just can't. You have to stop trying.” 

“If that's what you want.”

Al swears to himself that if Teddy confirms this, he will never speak to him again. He swipes the back of his hand over his wet cheeks and tries as hard as he can not to sniffle. 

“It is. Do you think we can go back to, you know, normal?” 

“No.”

“Yeah, suppose not.”

“But I'm not mad at you.” It almost hurts to say, but he doesn't think he can stand another week of Teddy ignoring him. Concessions must be made. 

“I'm glad. I really am sorry...”

“Is that it?” Al's voice warbles and he knows he has to give up any hope that Teddy wouldn't notice him crying. Though Teddy has seen him in much worse states, he's never felt this humiliated. If Teddy is merciful, he'll walk out now. 

“No, well, I also wanted to tell you that I'm going to be gone for the rest of the week. Harry has a job in Spain and I asked to go along.”

Al's stomach ices over as he jumps to what he knows is the right conclusion. 

“Why?” 

“I thought it would be good to-”

“It's because of me.” 

“What? No, it's not like that, I need-”

“Don't fucking lie.” 

“Yes. I'm leaving because I need to be away from you. For a bit.”


	5. Week 6

Wednesday

5pm  
Teddy gets home from work just in time to see James point his wand at Al and blast him with a bone breaking hex. The sunlight filtering through the windows hits James right in the face, highlighting the purple bruise forming around his lower lip, swollen and split. Teddy has a strong urge to turn around and walk out the door for a cigarette, pretending he saw nothing. He hates getting between Al and James. Their fights can be intense, and the prospect of taking either side makes him anxious. But then Al howls in pain and it pulls on every one of Teddy's heartstrings. He turns and sees Al cupping his hands under his face, to stop the blood pouring out of his nose from getting on the beige carpet. 

“Bastard,” Al sputters, flecks of crimson flying from his lips. He tries to reach for his wand but with just one hand he can't stop the blood from streaming onto the front of his shirt. 

Teddy swishes his wand towards Al. He watches long enough to make sure the bleeding has stopped, then turns to James. His relationship with James has always been a bit strained, but he's never felt as angry at him as he does now. He wants to believe this has nothing to do with his feelings for Al, but he can't convince himself. When he's standing in front of James he imagines throwing him into the wall. He won't do it, but it's hard not to picture. 

“What the fuck was that?” 

James looks startled at the volume of Teddy's voice, but he gestures to his face. “The stupid git punched me.” 

“You broke his nose over that scratch?” 

James' eyes narrow. “He was asking for it, I didn't even touch-”

“Yeah fucking right I was,” Al interrupts from the couch. “you're the one who called me-”

“Oh so now it's my fault you can't take a joke?” 

Teddy is finding it harder and harder to stop himself from slapping James in the face. He can't listen to him talk to Al like that. Though it may not be the best idea, he points his wand at James. 

“Get the fuck out,” Teddy snaps. “I don't want to look at you right now. And I have to heal him.” 

“Aw, you're not going to heal me as well?” 

“James. _Now_ ” He's almost shouting. James rolls his eyes and walks away without another word. As soon as he's gone Teddy begins to regret being so aggressive, and going as far as to threaten him. If Harry hears about it, he'll not be happy. 

But when he looks at Al, everything feels justified. Beautiful even with his nose misaligned and blood smeared over the lower half of his face, he is wiping tears from his puffy eyes. It would anger Teddy if anyone had put Al in this state, but the fact that it was his brother makes it so much worse. He doesn't deserve that. 

“Al.” Teddy says his name with affection and pity as he sits on the couch beside him. The tawny corduroy cushions are speckled red , but it's nothing a well-executed cleaning spell can't fix. Al buries his face in his hands, embarrassed in a way that Teddy finds oddly endearing, despite the circumstances. “Look up at me.” 

After a pause Al raises his head and Teddy hits him with _episkey_ before he can see it coming. Better that he doesn't anticipate the pain. Al winces and yelps, but then relief washes over his face and he reaches up to touch his corrected nose. 

“Thanks.” Al is looking right at him, eyes bright green and clear as peridot against his ruddy skin. Teddy is about to clear the blood from his face, but he loses track of what he's doing when he stares at Al's eyes, wondering if they had ever looked so vulnerable before. Al is unwavering under his gaze, staring back placidly. So distressed moments ago, Teddy's presence and concern cast calm over the younger boy. 

Al shifts his weight, tucking one leg under himself and for a second his knee digs into Teddy's thigh. Without giving it any thought, Teddy lets his wand clatter to the floor and brings both of his hands up to cup Al's face. He tastes iron before he realizes that they're kissing, that his tongue has slid into Al's open mouth. Al's skin is sticky and Teddy can feel his fingers smearing the blood, knows it's painting guilt on his face, but he doesn't stop. He explores every corner of Al's perfect, velvet mouth, reminding himself that this is absolute last time he will have the chance. He can't do this ever again, but right now... 

The weight of Al climbing into his lap brings reality back into focus. The sitting room, _Harry's_ sitting room, is well lit, blinds open, and James could be anywhere. Harry and Ginny could arrive home any minute, and they could emerge from the fireplace, right across the sofa. With rueful guilt, Teddy pulls away and pushes Al off. 

“No, no, no, we can't do this. This is completely fucked.” 

“We! I didn't- you just...” Al looks dumbfounded, and Teddy can't blame him. 

Sighing, Teddy picks his wand up off the floor and gestures at Al. “ _tergeo_ ,” then does the same to himself. He misses the metallic taste on his lips as soon as it vanishes. 

10pm

Teddy lays on his bed in the guestroom, trying to focus on reading a pamphlet from the Ministry about determining the difference between the imperius curse and intoxication. He finds himself reading the same paragraph over and over, unable to focus as he perseverates on the kiss, repeatedly telling himself that he is a terrible, worthless human. He can't help but think of how much he enjoyed it in the moment, but the memory is tainted by his shame. It's a relief when hears his door open- a chance for distraction, until he realizes that it's James. 

James comes in without a word, as though he's been invited, and makes a point to shut the door behind him. His brow is lined with anger and he walks to the edge of Teddy's bed.

“Hey... James. Thanks for knocking” James does not respond, but glares at him and crosses his arms. Teddy sits up and prepares himself for a lecture about how he favors Al, and how he's such an asshole for this reason and that. Best to jump in with an apology, to get things over with. “Look if this about what happened earlier-”

“It's not about that.” 

Teddy's brow knits in confusion, and a small feeling of dread crawls up his spine. “It's not?”

“It's about more than that, and I think you know it.” There's a a look of threatening certainty in Jame's eyes that makes Teddy's blood turn to ice. He can feel the back of neck growing hot, and fingers twist through his hair before he can stop them; a nervous tic that is all too obvious. 

“Sorry James, I'm lost.” With the greatest effort is he able to keep his voice even, laced with carefully placed surprise.

“Something's going on between you and my brother.”

Teddy balls the blue flannel comforter up in his fists, squeezing tight to stop his hands from shaking. He takes a deep breath and hopes James doesn't notice. 

“What are you talking about?”

“I'm talking about you and Al. You avoid him for weeks, then you're swooping in to protect him, like he's your fucking world of all the sudden. And I saw that fight you had a couple weeks ago, at the party.

“Fight? We didn't-”

“I _saw_ it. And I saw the blood on his shirt when he came in. I know what you did. But still he's falling all over you... looking at you the same way you look at my dad.”

Teddy gapes at him. His stomach sours as he wonder if everyone in the Potter family has noticed his pining for Harry. What's even more troubling is the casual way James mentions the information, like he's known for years and discusses it often. 

“I have no clue what you're talking about, you- you sound absolutely mad.” 

“What are you doing to him? Why is he so obsessed with you?”

“I'm- nothing. He's not.” 

“Something's not right. You're turning him into a fucking pouf-”

The anxiety that had been suffocating Teddy fades away, obscured by rage. He's tempted to leap from the bed to take James to the floor. 

“Bloody hell James! Where do you get off-”

“Whatever's going on, you'd better stop it. Leave Al alone.” 

“Nothing's going on.” 

“Or I'll let my dad know.”

Nothing about the conversation has been terrifying until this moment. Even though James has no damning evidence, he has enough to give Harry cause for concern. It's apparent that he is willing to hold that over Teddy's head, perhaps forever. The prospect of that makes him feel faint. James is already halfway out the door when he manages a response.

“There's nothing to tell him.”


	6. Weeks 6&7

Saturday 2am

Al wakes to the sound of glass shattering one floor below him, and after listening for a moment he can hear someone walking around. There's just one person it can be; when Al went to bed earlier Teddy had yet to come home. He debates whether or not to go downstairs, half expecting that Teddy will tell him to go away. They talk more now, but Teddy is still making an obvious effort to avoid being alone with him. 

Putting his doubts aside, Al heads downstairs and into the kitchen where he can hear the clatter of glass against the granite counter top. Teddy is pouring himself a drink with no regard to the exact placement of his tumbler; the liquid splashes over the sides and onto the floor until the glass is filled. He gulps half the portion before he notices Al. 

“You're up?” He doesn't seemed bothered by Al's presence, but he does seem drunk. 

“Kind of.” 

Teddy nods, finishing the rest of the drink. He's still wearing his shoes and jacket, cigarette behind his ear like he'd been planning to go out for a smoke but forgot. Just by the way he moves, with sloppy and uncoordinated gestures, Al can tell how far gone he is. It's not something he's used to seeing and it's much different than the pleasant tipsiness he's observed at family gatherings. 

“Do you want some?” Teddy holds up the bottle, expensive whiskey that must belong to Harry, then takes a swig. 

“I'm alright.” 

When Teddy leans over the counter, Al catches the strong scent of liquor and tobacco. No hint of how Teddy usually smells at all. 

“You've been at the pub then?”

“Yup.” Teddy shrugs his jacket off and attempts to throw it over one of the kitchen chairs. He misses by a wide berth. “Been there most of the night.” 

“You go right after work?”

“Something wrong with that?”

Al hesitates for a moment, already regretting the direction he's steering the conversation in. 

“No, nothing it's just...you're still doing it. Why are you still avoiding me? You're the one who wanted things to go back to _normal_ -”

“Ah, yeah, but things will never be fucking normal with us, will they? You, you're the one who said it couldn't be the same. And you're right you know, it's too messed up at this point.” He seems resigned to this, and not at all upset. Al chalks his blasé attitude up to the alcohol, and is grateful, as much as he knows that's twisted. He goes around to Teddy's side of the counter and busies himself fixing a glass of water. There's an opportunity here, and if he doesn't give the right response he'll miss it. 

“Maybe, it might be messed up. But I still want to... talk to you, spend time, you know... not around everyone else.” 

Teddy laughs. “Be alone together? Do you remember what happened last week?” He seems amused that Al would suggest such a thing. “I'm sure you can tell by now. You're clever, Al, you've always been clever and you knew before I did.” 

“Knew what?” 

“I'm bloody weak. I can't control myself around you. I don't know how to do it anymore, how to be with you without being with you, how to look at you and not touch you.”

Al is shocked to hear this after weeks of Teddy's adamant denial that there was nothing between them. True, he'd kissed him with quite of bit of intention, but what he's saying now goes far beyond that. 

“You don't have to...” 

“I have to do _so_ many things, Al, and I don't want to do any of them. But I have to, so I do them, and I'm miserable but at least I'm not some pedophile pervert, and at least I kind of have a family, and most of you don't hate me.” Teddy's thoughts are disjointed as he bounds from one sentence to the next. Al can translate most of it, but not all. 

“You're not a- come on, I'm fifteen, not seven.” 

“And I'm twenty three.” Teddy says it in a matter of fact way, making his way closer to Al. One more step and Al feels his back press against the counter's edge.. None of the lights are on, but he can see the way Teddy is leering at him, and he's thrilled to be looked at that way. Teddy reaches for the hem of Al's green Hollyhead Harpies shirt, two sizes to small and bunched up above his hips. He pulls the fabric down to reach the top of Al's pajamas, hiding the strip of exposed skin. 

“You should go,” Teddy says, and Al's heart sinks. For a second he'd had his hopes up.

“I should?” 

“If you don't...” Teddy places his hands on the counter, trapping Al in between. “I'm going to do something I'll regret.” 

Al has only some idea what he means, and he's eager to provoke this regrettable behaviour. He knows it's wrong to be getting into something like this with Teddy when he's so intoxicated. But the promise of desire fulfilled looms before him, and he hasn't the self control to turn away. 

“What if I-”

Al is cut off by Teddy's mouth covering his. He reels at the overpowering taste of whiskey and the chill of Teddy's hand on the back of his neck. Teddy sucks and licks with abandon, dragging his teeth over Al's lips. Al is so stunned he's barely along for the ride, one step behind. He thought Teddy was being forward when they kissed last week, but that was nothing in comparison. Al can't breathe, and he isn't sure if it's because Teddy is crushing him, or if the air has simply left his lungs. 

“Let's go to my room.” 

Al freezes. It doesn't feel quite right, but it's everything he's been wanting. Even if Teddy is sloshed, he assures himself, it will still mean _something_. Al nods, catching his breath. 

“Okay.” 

Teddy almost slams the door behind them, and Al is the one who remembers to lock it. His heart is beating so fast he's sure it will fly right out of his chest. Teddy flicks the light on and Al sees his face up close for the first time in days. Two days of stubble shade his jaw, and the tip of his nose is rosy. Al wonders how it's possible that Teddy is more attractive every time he looks at him. 

Al's back hits the wall with a soft thud, and he's pinned by the full strength of Teddy's well-muscled arms. He leans in to kiss him again, but Teddy pulls back, grabbing Al's shirt and yanking it over his head. Before he can protest, he's naked. Naked in front of Teddy, for the first time ever. A blush creeps over his cheeks and spreads across his chest. The light seems brighter than usual, exposing every inch of his soft, underdeveloped body. Compared to Teddy he is sure he looks like a child. 

Teddy is grinning at him, and he forces his knee between Al's legs, denim rubbing rough against his bare skin. It makes him feel weak, like he would crumple to the floor if Teddy's wasn't holding him against the wall. 

Teddy starts undoing the buttons on his shirt, and puts his lips to Al's ear. 

“Get on the bed.” 

Al's eyes flick to the bed where Teddy has slept for years. The room that Ginny had at first dubbed the guest room evolved into Teddy's room, whether or not he was staying with them. The comforter has been the same for years, blue tartan flannel that Al never imagined he'd be lying naked on. His back is cradled by the soft fabric and when his head hits the pillow, he wonders if this is a dream. Teddy is undressed when he climbs on top of him. 

“I like you like this.” Teddy runs his hands over the flat planes of Al's chest, to the valley between his ribs.“I shouldn't have held off for so long. Why bother giving a fuck about... this, this is...” His fingers trace figure-eights below Al's belly button, flirting with the line where lily white skin meets wiry black hair. It makes Al shiver, from top of his scalp to the tips of his toes, and his insides are icy. It doesn't feel real until Teddy's fingers brush over the tip of Al's erection, and he flinches in surprise. 

“I'm glad you-” Al sucks the last word in with a gasp, as Teddy's forefinger and thumb clamp around nipple. 

“You like that, don't you?” 

“Like what?” 

Teddy gives him a diminutive smile. “When I touch you.”

“Obviously,” Al breathes, daring to reach a hand up to Teddy's waist. Teddy grabs his wrist with a grip much tighter than Al would've expected. He guides his hand down until Al feels silken skin beneath his palm. He curls his fingers around the shaft, thrilled to feel how aroused Teddy is, and pulls it a couple of times.

“Looks like you're not...” Teddy sucks at the flesh on Al's neck. “not exactly new to this.”

“Well, I mean I... you know... I've a bit of practice with myself.” It's part of the truth, just not all of it; Al doesn't want any questions from Teddy about who he's giving hand jobs to at school. 

“Oh, I think I know.” Teddy's teeth graze against his jaw, and Al is somewhat unsettled by his tone. “I watched you.” He says it in the quietest voice; at first Al is sure he's misheard him. But his lips are millimetres from Al's ear, and every word was clear as glass. There's a knot in his stomach, tangled strings of exhilaration and unease. 

“What?”

“One night, your door was open.” Teddy sits up and peers down at Al. “I know, I know I should have walked away, shouldn't have even been standing there to begin with. You were just- you changed so much since the last time I saw you. Everything was different and all the fucking sudden I wanted to fuck you, and knew I couldn't... so I watched. And I came.” 

“You- when?” 

“Two nights after I got here. Couldn't look you in the eye after, you probably noticed.”

Al's head swims as the pieces fall together, and he wonders if that single incident had set the course for their tumultuous summer. 

“I... wow, that's...”

“You're not mad?” 

“No, no.”

“So you're going to let me fuck you then?” 

The immediacy of the question hits Al like a punch to the gut. He wants it so bad his bones ache, but it terrifies him so much his body is quaking. He can't find his voice, or words for that matter, so he lifts his head and kisses Teddy until he feels like he might suffocate. 

“Yeah.”

“But you've not done it before, have you?' 

Al shakes his head. He's relieved to hear Teddy ask because he'd been trying to figure out the least pathetic way to bring that up. Nevertheless, his face grows hot and he turns his head to the side, in hopes of hiding his embarrassment. Teddy grabs Al's jaw and forces his head back around so he can look him in the eye. 

“Don't. It's okay.” He lets go and swipes his thumb over Al's reddened cheek. “It'll be so good, it feels... you'll love it. I promise.” 

As scared as Al is, there's no one he'd rather be doing this with. Even wasted, Teddy is leagues beyond anyone he's met at school, and the only person Al cares about this way. He gives Teddy an apprehensive look, unable to remember a time where he'd ever had this much trouble getting himself to speak. _Please, yes, I want to, but I'm terrified. Don't hurt me, don't judge me, don't hate me._ His thoughts are trapped behind his fear. 

“Don't you trust me?”

“Yes...” 

“Good.” Teddy moves off of Al and kneels beside him. “This is going to be... fuck. Amazing. Turn over.”

“What?”

“It's better that way.” 

Al wants to ask which one of them it was supposed to be better for, but he finds himself obeying in silence. He discards the part of his fantasies where he looks into Teddy's eyes, and watches his face contort in pleasure. Naked on his hands and knees, he feels for a moment that he's debasing himself. Reminding himself that would do _anything_ for Teddy, do anything to be with him, he puts the thought aside. 

Teddy's hand placed in the center of Al's back shoves his torso down, so that his arse is easier to access and his legs slide apart. The abrupt movement catches Al off guard and he feels his spine curve a few degrees beyond comfort. To distract himself, he concentrates on the way Teddy's hand explores his back, kneading it with relish. The other hand creeps around to his face, probing his lips. 

“Suck.” 

Al doesn't need to ask why. He opens his mouth to two of Teddy's fingers, taking them in down to the knuckle. He's flooded with the taste of salt and saliva floods his mouth. He laves his tongue around the fingers, unable to prevent the drool that spills from the corner of his lips. 

“Christ Al, your mouth... why the fuck have I been turning you away all summer?” 

It's the sort of thing he's been waiting to hear and it should feel like nothing other than praise and flattery, but it makes Al's stomach twist a bit. He doesn't have to respond until Teddy draws his fingers away, spit smearing around his mouth. 

'You shouldn't have.” He speaks halfway into the pillow. 

Teddy spares no time in sliding one slick finger, then the other, into Al's champagne pink arsehole. At first Al feels like every muscle in his body has tensed as rigid as possible, and he doesn't move. The feeling is foreign, without a doubt uncomfortable, but it arouses him in a way he can't describe, can't understand. 

“Breathe, come on. You need to take a deep breath.” Al ignores the impatience in Teddy's words and does as he says. A large portion of the tension dissipates when he exhales, and Teddy seizes the opportunity to start stretching him. When he feels the fingers splay apart Al moans low in his throat, and puts his arm in front of his mouth to muffle the sound. 

“No.” Teddy grabs his forearm with an iron grip and wrenches it behind his back. “I want to hear you, I want to hear everything.” 

“What if someone else hears?” 

“I've been using soundproofing charms on this room for ages. I never would've gotten away with half the stuff- no one's going to hear a thing.” 

Teddy bends down and grabs his leather jacket off the floor, fishing in the pocket for his wand. 

“Why-” 

“You'll thank me.” 

When Teddy mutters something under his breath, Al turns around out of curiosity. He's rubbing clear liquid over the length of his erection, and before Al can ask what it is, the tip is resting against his entrance. 

“You ready?”

“Yeah.” Al isn't sure it's the right answer, but he wants to do this, and he'll pretend he's ready if he has to. 

Teddy holds Al down with a hand between his should blades, using the other to guide himself as he pushes forward. Al braces himself, and cries out when he feels Teddy enter him. He's _not_ ready, and it doesn't feel like anything he ever could have expected. The pain is slight, the discomfort is incomprehensible. The only thing keeping him hard is the tickle of Teddy's hair on his back, as he bows his head and moans like he hasn't been touched in years. 

“Oh, Al... wow.” When he's buried to the hilt, he stops to weave his fingers through Al's hair. “This is-I've never done it with a- this is fucking unreal.”

His voice is faint echo to Al, who's feeling lightheaded as he tries to adjust to being pried open. When his muscles relax a bit, he's aware of Teddy's mouth on his neck, sucking bruises that will bloom purple before the sun rises. 

“Does it feel good?” 

“It-yeah... it just hurts a little.” 

“Only at first,” Teddy assures him, and his voice is thick and husky as it slithers into Al's ear. “Touch yourself, it'll help.” Al's heart hiccups and he inhales a sharp breath. He's sure he will never forget those words in Teddy's voice, spoken just for him. Without hesitation, he reaches beneath himself and palms his hot, desperate cock. It doesn't relieve the pain as much as it distracts, and it distracts enough that Teddy is able to pull out and thrust forward again. The movement drags a strangled groan from Al's throat, caught somewhere between ecstasy and agony. 

“Fuck.” Teddy grunts, and the hand in Al's hair turns into a fist. He pulls Al back by a handful of black locks, until he's up on his knees. The angle changes in a way that makes Al yip in pain, he bites the sound back as best he can. 

“I can't...” He drops his torso back onto the bed and clings to the pillow like it's a life preserver. “This feels better.” 

Teddy doesn't respond but he grabs Al's hips, fingernails cutting into soft flesh, and positions his ass higher up. It goes deeper this time, sends lights bursting before Al's eyes. Before he knows it he's spilling sticky white ropes all over the flannel. He's gasping for breath and Teddy is laughing. 

“I knew you'd be easy” 

The sentence sounds like gibberish, language far beyond Al's current processing capabilities. He lets himself sink into the mattress, relinquishing his grip on the pillow. He feels somewhat numb, somewhat elated as Teddy rides him to climax. The sounds are beautiful, the way he moans, the way Al's full name rolls off his lips, soaked in lust. With great concentration he mentally records it all, determined to remember every detail.

When Teddy slides out of him, Al rolls over and he feels wet; wet between his cheeks, sliding down his thighs. 

“ _Tergeo_.” Teddy is sitting next to him, pointing his wand at Al's ass. The liquid slips away and Teddy is staring at his face like he's never seen him before. “You look just like him.”

Al turns away and closes his eyes. For a second he thinks he might throw up. 

“You're plastered.” He forces a smirk and gets off the bed. 

“I suppose.” Teddy lies down and trains his eyes on Al as he puts his clothes back on. 

Al is careful to pull his shirt over the waistband of his pajamas. He looks over at Teddy, who's splayed on the bed, wiping sweat off his forehead and looking nothing besides content. He wants more than anything to shower, but he almost doesn't have the energy to stand up, or walk to his room. 

“I'm going to go... to sleep.” There is an emptiness that hangs in the air, and Al feels like something else should be happening. He doesn't know what. 

“Alright.” Teddy cards his hands through his hair and gives Al a look that is a few shades shy of affection. “We should do this again sometime.” 

Al wonders if he'll even remember it in the morning. 

“Yeah. For sure.” 

He leaves the room feeling sore and confused.

**Author's Note:**

> My first HP fic!!


End file.
